Child of Rebellion
by BlackFlamesFairy
Summary: Before the 74th Annual Hunger Games, a spark was lit. The Districts stole back their power, their flame, if only for the briefest of moments. The Games were our punishment, but someone used them to show Panem that the Districts will not, will never back down. That some will always gladly give thier lives for rebellion. Prequel to THG series 3rd Hunger Games May contain Spoiler
1. Prologue- Child of Rebellion

**_Prologue-The Child of Rebellion_**

_Johanna Mason…_

I leaned against the wall. One decision. One choice. On one side of the wall was the District. On the other side?

Electric fences? forests? deserts? wastelands? I did not know. No one knew. All I know is that those who went did not return.

I was a Victor of District 7. In my hand was a book. This book contained the knowledge that would send the Districts into shock. I, Johanna Mason, Victor of the Lower Districts, held the knowledge of victory and the knowledge of rebellion in my hands.

Not the rebellion that was soon to catch fire and light Panem ablaze. This was of the rebellion that had already burnt Panem, of the aftermath. The story of the Third Annual Hunger Games.

The Mockingjay was the sign of rebellion long before the Girl on Fire lit the spark that is about to light the inferno of rebellion. This book contains the story of the first Mockingjay.

The first to make a fool of the Capitol. The one whose actions are why I am alone and my family is dead. This book contains the story of why the history of the Hunger Games is only that of living memory. Why the Capitol does not add to the cruelty of the Games by making us learn about them in schools. To hide her truth.

Experience is the best teacher. The 74th Annual Hunger Games are the proof of that. The book that was in my hand, but is know on the other side of the wall belongs to the District 7 tribute of the Third Annual Hunger Games. Johanna Mason. The one I was named after, as if carrying her cursed name would be of any help in our cruel world. She is the reason my District suffered. This is the story of the first Mockingjay,

The Child of the Rebellion.

**Author's note**

**I had not expected it to be so short. The chapters will get longer :)**

**Comment brutally with constructive criticism please :)**


	2. Chapter 1 Present

**_On the other side of the wall, the book fell with a thud and opened. The smell of a long forgotten time escaped from between its pages and brought back the long forgotten tale, of Johanna Mason, the District 7 tribute of the 3_****_rd_****_ Hunger Games._**

**Present**

_Johanna…_

I stood on a branch with my back against the trunk of a tree. The branch was the width of my hand and was the line between life and death, as I was standing 30 feet high in the air.

District 7 was the lumbar and masonry District of Panem. We cut the trees, carved the wood and made whatever was necessary for Panem. For the Capitol. The District was divided into the Cutters, the Cleaners and the Carpenters, in ascending order of status, pay and living conditions. There were Town folk as well, for food, clothes and such, but they were in in minority.

The fringes of the forest had shorter trees, which were cut, but the deeper you went into the forest the taller and thicker the trees were.

There was an electric fence running through the forest that supposedly ran all day to keep out the animals. But it failed at both. Not that it mattered. Noone came so deep into the forest. Noone climbed the trees and jumped the fence. And Noone hated the Capitol, the Games, the Districts, Panem and all the people in it. I was Noone.

My parents named me Johanna Mason. They were the leaders of the rebellion in District 7. I grew up in a cabin beyond the fence of District 7, which my parents had built. I grew up believing people wanted freedom and would do anything for it.

It was a lie.

The people of District 7 turned my parents in, to the Capitol the moment the rebellion started failing. They believed they were merciful by not sending me there too, and put me in a Community home.

I stayed there till I was sixteen and then I ran away to the Cabin in the woods, only coming out once a year. The reason? The Hunger Games.

The first Reaping day was by sixteenth birthday. I watched the horrendous Hunger Games, the only joy was that the Districts suffered, for letting the rebellion fail. They deserved it. Yet, as much as I wanted to believe I hated them I waited, watching, hoping to see the tributes rebel. Show the Capitol that the Districts were not there toys, not a piece of there games.

I was wrong. They all played to the tune of the Capitol. My parents died for the rebellion, and yet the Districts did nothing. Some said that we were not strong enough. It was true. The Districts had raised a generation that accepted everything the Capitol did.

But my parents died for freedom. As much as I hated Panem, I knew the ones I really hated was the Capitol. So to bring them down, I would spread the word. I would light the spark.

My eighteenth birthday will be my last. Because I am giving myself a present.

**Author's note-**

**Okay, maybe the chapters are short, but I hope the interest is stirring. I promise the next chapter will be longer and much more, interesting. With new characters and twists *smiles evilly* And remember, this is 71 years before the 74th Hunger Games, so any characters sharing last names are ancestors of those seen in the books. **

**Though that is not any sort of confirmation that they will survive *smiles evilly***

**Please review :D**

**11 view! (so far) yippee! **


	3. Chapter 2- Vengeance

**_On the day of the reaping of the Third Annual Hunger Games_**

**Vengeance**

Today was Reaping Day, and it was my birthday. On the same day. Fate was either cruel or kind. I am not sure yet.

I went to the Community Home for my yearly visit. The children starred at me with wide eyes, the fear evident in them. The lady who was in charge of the Home looked at me, glaring, but she did not say anything. As if anyone from the District would dare to say anything to me. The cowards.

Thought, as I looked in the mirror at myself in a hand me down reaping dress, I could accept their fear. I was tall, with lean and tanned muscles, the result of my hunting and diet of berries and leaves. And my eyes were cold and remorseless. I could be pretty, but for my icy glare and sullen expression. I would never smile at the traitors.

* * *

I walked with the Community Home children to the town square. They had spent the day helping each other get dressed up. I had simply placed my hair in such a way that it would not cover my face and could show off its length. I needed to make an impression. I felt the knife tucked up my sleeve and smiled. To kill the escort or not?

I walked to the 18 year old's section and waited. I was in the middle of the group and still some way from the stage. But it did not matter, my knife would reach.

As we finished gathering our escort walked on stage. Green. That was the word that would describe her. She towered over the Mayor in ridiculously large shoes and was wearing every single shade of green imaginable, topped of with a two foot high wig. Hmmm.

"Welcome! Welcome! I am Forest Green, the new District 7 escort! As you can see I am representing the District in all its colours" she giggled " You would not be-LEAF how difficult it was! " She started laughing again. Her Capitol accent was ridiculous.

She then saw our blank expressions and awkwardly said, " Umh, well, let us begin the Reaping!" She shuffled to the glass bowl, "Ladies first!"

_Rowan…_

I was terrified. My last Reaping. I might get Reaped, or my sister might. Though if I did I would probably come home. Most likely in a wooden box, but still.

The creepy green lady said, "Welcome! Welcome! I am Forest Green, the new District 7 escort! As you can see I am representing the District in all its colours! You would not be-LEAF how difficult it was!" and then, , " Umh, well, let us begin the Reaping!"

She reached one hand into the bowl and pulled out one chit. She opened it. And before she could say a word a girl rushed forward from the 18 year old section, so fast that I could only see her brownish gold hair flying behind her. She stopped before the stage and before anyone could react, she drew a knife from her sleeve and with a flick of her wrist launched it. The dagger flew from her hand, threw the chit and lodged itself firmly into the escort's wig.

The only sound was the thud of the wig falling behind the escort, revealing her shiny head with wisps of grey on it.

The girl jumped onto the stage. She pushed the bowl containing the chits of the pedestal. CRASH. She smiled. "There is no need for that." She said into the mike, her smile turning into a maniacal grin, " I volunteer as tribute." Silence followed. No one knew how to react. The escort stood there, frozen.

The sadistic girl with the creepy smile walked behind the and pulled the knife out of the wig. Holding the knife against the escort's arm causing a thin trickle of blood to come from it. "You have to pick the male tribute now. Unless you can't. I'll do it for you then. The Districts _always _help the _generous _Capitol in its time of need." The girl was mad.

She walked to the bowl with the boys names and stabbed her dagger threw it, hitting the center of the bottom of it. The bowl shattered and the chits fell away like snowflakes, revealing one chit impaled by her dagger.

"And the _lucky_ tribute form the boys is-" she paused and looked at me. Then I remembered. It can't be. The girl crying at the execution of the rebel leaders of 7. The girl who lived in the forest. The girl the Peacekeepers and the District feared. The girl whose family I betrayed. Us or them.

"Rowan Everdeen."

* * *

I froze. Everyone turned and looked at me. Who wouldn't? I was going into the arena with the mad sadistic girl. If I made it to the arena in one piece that is. I climbed to the stage. As I did I noticed a chit with a dagger mark in it. The female tribute she replaced. My heart froze.

It said Rose Everdeen. Johanna Mason saved my sister. I saw her expression as she watched me climb onto the stage. My name being drawn was not an accident. I would not be leaving the arena alive. I owed the mad girl my sister's life. And she owed me her vengeance.

**Author's Note-**

**Remember, since it is the past, all those sharing last names with characters are ancestors of said characters. Therefore, Everdeen? All will be explained. Eventually. *smiles***


End file.
